The MVP

So we have recently started what may soon morph into a one night a weekend tradition: a sleepover with both grandkids. D now joining C so that A and B can do whatever it is that parents do when not fully consumed with doing whatever it is that parents do.

The secret to survival in a situation such as the one my wife, son and I now regularly encounter is to have an MVP. A person who does not collapse in the face of adversity, who does not break down in tears when matters get rough, who can handle the best, meaning the worst the little people can conjure up. And our house is blessed with such a person. Most definitely not me.

My wife is remarkable. She does not let the chaos overwhelm her. Where I see problems she finds solutions. Where I have only tunnel vision, she can locate escape routes on the periphery. When I am looking for a partner to tag to keep me from suffering a humiliating defeat, she always has an outstretched hand.

But for her astounding capacity, the grandkids would eat little but air, would be dressed in summer clothes in a snowstorm, would watch 10 consecutive episodes of Spidey (instead of one, maybe two). She makes certain they are entertained with card games, puzzles, books, toys, scavenger hunts. I just wander as far out of the maelstrom as possible and applaud.

Yesterday morning I snuck out to go skiing with both of our children for several hours while my wife performed her juggling act with C and D with one arm tied behind her back. And when we returned, the apartment was still wholly intact, the grandchildren were alive, well, appropriately dressed and fully fed. Had the roles been reversed, you would have found me huddled in a corner penning an incoherent note "to whom it may concern."

Last week, my son in law sent a text thanking us for our support and stating, to the consternation of both my son and me, that my wife had been voted MVP. I protested, demanding a recount and our son indicated, notwithstanding the notification, that he was declaring himself the winner.

As of today, we have both conceded. There are no hanging chads here. There is no media driven, left wing plot at work. Elon Musk hasn't put his finger on the scale. My wife is the unanimous winner, fair and square.

If one weekend soon you should find yourself in similar circumstance and are in need of calling a lifeline, I fervently hope you too have an MVP at the ready. For without one matters can turn ugly. In a heartbeat.